


Shattering the Moon

by vagrantBreath



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Established Relationship, How'd we get to that from this, M/M, Prequel to Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-11-14 16:34:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11211948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vagrantBreath/pseuds/vagrantBreath
Summary: Alfor offered Zarkon a position next to him, a lover's position in Altean society. But Zarkon wanted so much more... much more than Alfor could ever give him.





	1. Chapter 1

”Her name is Allura.”

Alfor looked so proud of a small, squished, brown... peanut. Zarkon couldn’t understand it. He reached out, carefully touching a claw to Allura’s face and watching her squish up her features and make a soft sound of discomfort. Hastily, he withdrew his finger as she rubbed at her face awkwardly with a balled up fist, then looked up at them with unfocusing blue eyes. “She has lovely eyes,” Zarkon told him, trying to find anything to say.

With a soft roll of laughter, Alfor shook his head. “Thank you. It’s difficult to see an infant of another race, isn’t it?”

”I do not do well with infants in general,” Zarkon admitted. “I do not know what the appeal of them are.”

Alfor chuckled. “Someday, old friend. But first you must find a woman you find worthy of bearing your children.”

”Or in your case, fall deeply in love with one.”

”Ah.” Alfor took a deep breath, bouncing Allura slightly when she started to get fussy. “I suppose that was a rather agreeable side bonus.”

”Perhaps for you,” Zarkon murmured.

For a moment, Alfor let himself be silent, then he sighed. “Come, walk with me. It is about Allura’s feeding time.” Zarkon walked next to him glancing over at little Allura as they walked, seeing Alfor’s calm face before he spoke. “Zarkon. We’ve spoken of you joining us as Our Third.”

”I refuse to be considered an add-on,” Zarkon told Alfor, heated. “Be it as it may, I do not wish to be tacked on at the end of your sentence.”

Alfor looked over at him briefly. “Then, my heart, do you know what you ask of me? Of us? We would have to break all ties.”

Zarkon shook his head. “That is where you are wrong. We can-”

”No.” Alfor’s voice made Allura cry in how stern, how resolute it was. He turned to soothing her, rocking her gently. “The only way we can make it official is if you join us,” he told Zarkon as they reached Queen Pylia’s chambers. “It is a noble title, Zarkon. You would have equal right as we two.”

A dark part of Zarkon squirmed, realizing that would not be true. He would not be a king. Queen Pylia would always have more power than he would, and would always come first in Alfor’s attentions. No, he would not allow that. He would never allow the idea of someone being _more_ than him in this matter.

He would... only need to find out how to steal Alfor’s attention for good. Perhaps even make him... no, that was quite foolish. He wasn’t that foolish. But he could come up with something.

Zarkon looked down at little crying Allura, and reached out again, stroking her cheek as her crying started to subside.

  


* * *

  


Ah. Zarkon rubbed his head as the consul filtered out, not bothering to look at his father. Why was it that he decided to allow such dissent within his kingdom? A simple iron fist would fix all of this, and yet. And yet, he would not do such a thing. Zarkon inhaled deeply, moving to stand.

”Zarkon.” His father’s voice rumbled, stilling his movements. “What do you think of what you just heard?”

”I believe I heard the sound of dissent needing the be dealt with,” he answered, honest. “I believe I heard those who do not know of what they speak and thus need a hand to silence them.”

”They do need a hand,” his father mused. “However, they need something much kinder than what you speak of. They need a hand to guide them. It is true; they do not know what they speak of. But a strong leader to guide them will help them understand what it is we are trying to do. Within time, you will see that.”

The musings of the old generation, Zarkon thought presumptuously. He was thinking of a rule that obviously was failing. And nothing would change his mindset on that. If that did not change, well... the Galra kingdom itself may not survive. He could not allow that. But what could he do...

”Zarkon.” Again, his father’s voice brought his attention back around. “Did Queen Pylia have her child?”

”Yes. A strong healthy girl named Allura.”

”We must send a present to the King and Queen of Altea for the birth of their daughter,” his father murmured. “However, I must speak to you about your relationship with King Alfor. As heir to the Galra throne, I must object to you... longing as such for a man in such a relationship, much less the king of his people.”

”You’ve objected to me in a relationship with an Altean, much less a man or even a king,” Zarkon said mildly. “You have never approved of it.”

”If you are to choose a mate, you must choose one that will create a strong heir when you are king,” his father told him. “Do allow me to introduce you to a Grand Duchess I know will be a good mate for you. She will bear strong children, and you will be able to rise to greatness without worry of scandal.”

”Such as if my love is male and Altean?”

His father winced. “Zarkon. As the Crown Prince, you do not marry for love. You marry to create the strongest show of force for our kingdom. Even the Alteans know this. King Alfor did not marry Queen Pylia for love. She brought her military with her. You should look at the same kind of qualities.”

Zarkon tilted his head. “Equaling a woman’s fertility to a woman’s troops.”

”Both are quite useful.”

He was quite true about the troops. A show of force was always useful. But he could not in good faith say the same about the fertility. Zarkon only stood instead, telling his father, “I will consider it,” before leaving.

His father did not understand the matters of the heart. He had married for politics and assumed Zarkon must do so as well. But that could not be the case for Zarkon. He could not marry another in good faith, not with his heart belonging so strongly to Alfor.

Perhaps... he might need to see what he could do to bring Alfor to his side...


	2. Chapter 2

Paperwork. Easily the dullest thing his father had assigned to him. It was to instill discipline in some way, teach him patience. Teach him about those he was going to be ruling some day in the future. However... Zarkon stood. There must be an easier way about the entire deal. Something that did not cause him to waste a day reading over such inane things.

The entire way his father did things was inane. When he became king, he was not to allow any of this to continue. It was far too inefficient. Listening to the petty cries... they should be silenced. Zarkon went to his window, staring out with a frown. No, it wasn’t just the petty cries of the peasantry. He had seen how the resources had been allocated, few as there were. If only there was a source that could fuel them endlessly!

He would need to find a way to fix that, to make it so his people could eat properly... Zarkon spun around, trying to catch upon a thought that occurred to him. His father could not manage it, but he thought too small. He did not look outside the Galra people for help. If he only did so-

Alfor! He would only be too willing to speak with him on this matter, and perhaps even find a solution with him regarding it. Zarkon strode across the room to his communicator, intending on doing just so when memory righted itself. Alfor had been firmly set into his role as king now. His focus remained on the people of Altea, not the Galra. And if he called, he would only be besieged with more requests to become a royal concubine. No. He would not do that.

This dilemma needed answering, however. How he would do it... was the question. Zarkon sat again, considering. There would have to be a way.

Ah. Zarkon smiled a little at the sudden thought. This must be something his father was trying to teach him. Solving such problems would indeed be useful to a king. He would need to think of this more.

But at the same time... he did wish to know how Alfor was doing. It had been quite a while since he had seen his dear love. Obligation had kept his too busy. Perhaps he might just call and check in. Just briefly.

No one answered at first when he rang. It would make sense... after all, they were all busy... Zarkon reached out with a sigh to end the call.

”Purple.”

He looked up, startled at the Altean word spoken so clumsily. A small dark Altean wreathed in white hair looked up at him, holding what appeared to be a stuffed toy. A flurry of motion, and Queen Pylia picked the child up. “Allura,” she scolded. “What did Mother say? Do not leave my side.”

Allura pointed over her mother’s shoulder at Zarkon’s projection and his heart ached as he looked at her. He had not realized how long had passed. She was walking, speaking, thinking on her own. The last time he had spoken to her father, she had been a squished form in his arms, freshly born. And now... she was old enough to stare at him and make an assessment of his purple skin.

Zarkon cleared his throat. “Queen Pylia.”

She smiled at him, holding Allura firmly on her hip. “Prince Zarkon. It’s been a while. How have you been?”

”I have been quite busy,” Zarkon answered.

Pylia nodded sympathetically, shifting Allura as she leaned in her mother’s grasp, nearly falling. “This little one has been a handful. I will never laugh at my mother again when she speaks of my childhood again. Are you going to come meet her? She’s heard quite a few stories about you.”

Allura nodded, pressing one edge of the stuffed toy to her mouth shyly.

Pylia hadn’t been raised noble, Zarkon remembered. She did not know how to slowly ask such questions in such a way the answer seemed natural. But at the same time, she knew with Allura watching him with such wide eyes that he could not say no. He had forgotten her bluntness happened to be military in nature. “I will need to check my schedule.”

”I suppose a few boring meetings can keep while you meet your love’s little girl. Come, my schedule is clear for the next few quintents. And you, little Allura, can stay good for a little longer, yes?”

”Yes, Mommy.” Allura moved her toy long enough to say it before moving it back.

Zarkon would have no reason to refuse to meet them now. ”May I speak with Alfor?” he asked, trying to steer the conversation to a more neutral ground.

”He is not on Altea at the moment.” Pylia adjusted Allura again, pulling her close. “Perhaps I can assist you?”

It would perhaps do well to have Pylia help. Her military experience would be quite useful. But... his eyes turned to the distracted Allura on her hip. If he were to use her experience, he would need Allura to be gone first. Perhaps with a nursemaid. “Not at the moment. Perhaps when I join you.”

Pylia smiled. “Of course. I look forward to your arrival.”

The transmission ended there, leaving Zarkon to sigh heavily. He did not mean for that to end with him going to Altea to meet with Pylia and Allura. But at least meeting with Pylia would prove useful. She was, after all, a very intelligent woman and quite use to the military. She could be a fantastic asset.

If she would not speak of him becoming a royal concubine as well, that is.

Zarkon laughed suddenly. He was asking for outside help to solve the problem within. His father would be most disappointed with him. And yet, he found himself warming more to the idea of asking Alfor and Pylia, if only to infuriate his father. Because anything to do so.


	3. Chapter 3

Alfor laughed, bending down to kiss little... how old was little Allura? 50? 60? She barely came up to Zarkon’s knee. And here Alfor gave her forehead a kiss as she glowed, still holding the messy handful of juniberry flowers. He carefully took the flowers from her as she grinned, spinning to meet Zarkon. “Papa took all my flowers, so I don’t have any to give you,” she told him seriously. “But give me just a little bit and I will have more.” With those words, she rushed back outside.

Zarkon shook his head at her antics. “Your daughter is quite lively,” he told Alfor as he searched for a vase to put the flowers in.

”She is most definitely her mother’s daughter,” he chuckled. “Ah, but Zarkon. It’s been a while. How fares things?”

”My father continues to be a fool,” Zarkon grumbled. “From what I can ascertain, the reason we are experiencing so many petty requests is our allocation of resources. I’ve done what I could, but only now more pettiness has arisen from those that grew fat on the old system. What can be done for that, however... I’m not sure can be done with the resources we currently have.”

Alfor nodded, depositing the flowers into a vase. “I am running into many of the same issues myself. And it appears there is a war brewing between a nation Altea has an alliance with and one they have fought over resources with on the same planet...” He sighed. “Pylia’s armies will be useful, but-” He looked towards the outdoors.

”With little Allura, you will not allow her to take charge,” Zarkon guessed.

”What? Pylia would take Allura with her, teach her the art. She does seem to be her mother’s daughter in every regard. And if she learned military strategy as well as diplomacy, she would be quite the powerful leader indeed.” Alfor shook his head. “No, it’s that I fear little Allura is too young to understand why her mother is leaving, and that she may not return.”

”Is death not a concept taught to Altean children?” Strange. Galra children learned of it quite quickly.

”I could explain it to her, but I fear she may not understand the concept. She is not Galra, Zarkon. Death is not something she would encounter on a regular basis. When she is older, I will encourage Pylia to take Allura, for her to see what military strategy is.”

Zarkon tilted his head, considering this. It did make some sense, as little as it did. “Will you be immediately joining the war if the nations declare?”

”We will only join if we are called. As of this moment, I have offered my aid as a diplomat, offering talks between the two nations. I have not heard anything back yet, and I hope I do soon. I would rather not hear of a war.”

A war may do the nations some good, Zarkon thought. “Have you ever wondered what we could do to make situations such as these ease or disappear?”

”I have-” Alfor cut off as Allura stomped in, holding a huge bouquet of flowers. “I dare say that is larger than the one I received,” he laughed.

”Zarkon doesn’t visit often,” she retorted. “So I’m trying to make him stay.” Allura held up the bouquet to him. “It smells good.”

Slowly, he took the bouquet, smiling at the scent. She was quite right. “Thank you, Allura.”

Her smile was blinding.

  


* * *

  


”Absolutely not.”

Zarkon resisted the urge to tighten his jaw. His father would not allow for any of his ideas. And how he had spoken of wanting to reallocate resources back the way they had been... His father was too rigidly bound by the past. Why was his father so interested in keeping things the way they were?

His father sighed. “Zarkon. I would have hoped you would have seen by now. Come.” His father stood, walking out of the audience chamber, expecting Zarkon to follow. After a moment, he did, his jaw clenching. “I had put you in charge of the paperwork to have you see something,” his father told him, clasping his hands in front of him. “If you had done the paperwork required of you, you may have seen something,” he said. “Under the old system, those who did received what they did, did not pay what the rest did... repaid in other ways.”

”A bribe, for keeping us off their backs.”

”A distasteful way of putting it.”

Zarkon noticed his father did not refute his words. “Then how did they repay?”

”Alliances. Having an alliance with powerful people, who can sway the mind of others, can be very useful, Zarkon.”

”Or you can simply tell them to submit and pay like the rest,” Zarkon pointed out. “They should not be in charge of us, Father. We should be in charge of them, ruling them instead of bowing to their whim.”

”Oh Zarkon.” His father stopped, turning to smile pitifully at him. “Someday, you will understand the woes of running a kingdom. It is not as simple as you seem to think it is. One cannot simply force the will of the people to bend. It is much more difficult than you think it is.”

Zarkon’s hands flexed at his sides.

”Perhaps, if you were to show a way to first protect them...”

”Military force isn’t enough?”

”Our military only goes so far, Zarkon. And we do not have enough alliances. Perhaps if you turned your silly little crush with the Altean king into a true alliance, we may have the start of something to talk about how to quiet the demands of others. Until then, you do not know enough about this to speak of it and should continue to study our kingdom.” His father turned to leave, and this time, Zarkon did not follow.

He could not. After that arrogance, he couldn’t follow. Unable to use force to quiet the people? That was talk of a man too cowardly to keep the throne! But alas, he was to keep it until death.

Hm.


	4. Chapter 4

Who hurt Allura? Zarkon wanted to rip them apart. Instead, he knelt by her side, still towering over her tiny frame as she sobbed. “What happened, dearest Allura?”

”D-don’t tell my father,” she whispered, her voice quavering with the request.

”I only need to know who I must kill, little Allura.”

Her eyes opened wide, and she shook her head violently. “No! No, Zarkon...” She sniffled, the sound most pathetic. “I... lost his present. It is his day of birth, and I lost his present!”

Ah? A trifling matter. It rather surprised him that she wished to give him a present for growing yet another year older. But no matter. He would assist her in this matter. “And what was this present?”

”It was... a metal lion,” she told him. “The artisans made it specifically for him.”

A lion? “And where did you last see it, dearest Allura?” When she fell quiet, he sighed, rethinking the tactic. “If you were to hide it, where would you do so?”

Her face clouded with thought, then brightened as she landed upon one that worked. “Come with me,” she said, pulling his hand. The two of them made their way to her room as she tossed various objects aside, muttering to herself. Zarkon was to tell her to try another spot when she stood, holding something in her hands and smiling widely. The object... was the lion, sleek, hunting. Something about it...

He smiled at her. “Do you need anything else, little Allura?”

”No, this will do. Thank you, Zarkon.” She hugged him, not yet having lost all of her childish innocence. But he could see in how she moved that the Crown Princess was being molded, and such gestures were to end very soon. It made him... almost sad to see. The innocence was a novelty, not one he was used to seeing in Galra children.

He left, intent on finding Alfor before she did. The two of them did need to speak. That lion gave him a few ideas. Alfor and himself had been considering ways to protect those allied with their nations, and Zarkon may have one such idea. But when he came upon Alfor, he was speaking with Pylia, and his heart soured.

”Zarkon.” Pylia held out a hand, smiling. “Please, join us.”

Pylia’s experience would be something he would need. Swallowing his pride, Zarkon sat, taking some fierce joy in how far he towered above Pylia. “I need to-” he started before Pylia set a cup in front of him, pouring a hot liquid into it. “Pylia.”

”It would be rude not to offer our guest a drink.”

”It is also not the Queen’s job to pour the drink,” Alfor said, sighing. “Zarkon, how have you been?”

”If he is close enough to be Our Third, then he is not a guest.”

Zarkon stood suddenly, enraged that Pylia would dare to speak of that so openly. He was not some common... whore! “It appears it is not the right time,” Zarkon said coolly. “I will return at a later date.”

Pylia held her hand out. “Zarkon. I mean it with love. You are well loved by Alfor, myself, even Allura...”

”I am a Crown Prince, Queen Pylia, not a- a-”

Alfor stood. “Pylia.” She settled back as he turned to Zarkon. “Please. Walk with me.” He turned and walked, Zarkon following. As they walked, Alfor sighed. “I understand Galra do not have a third role in their royalty?” he asked, looking over at Zarkon.

”They do not,” Zarkon rumbled, unable to keep all of his anger out of his voice.

”Zarkon, if you had simply told us that from the beginning, we would not have asked you to join us as such. We did not understand Galra do not take multiple lovers and allow for that fact in their royalty.” Alfor stopped, turning to him. “However, now that I am aware, I do ask... what could possibly be similar to the role of Our Third in Galra culture? It is a role similar to a queen or king in ours, only not of the blood line or directly married into it.”

”We have no similar role. What you speak of in Galra culture would be considered having a concubine.”

Alfor winced. “Ah. I see why the thought has rankled. There must be something that would put us on equal terms and yet continue our love without turning it illegitimate. Pylia is not against you joining us as Our Third, but if we went behind her back...”

”Must we go behind her back?”

”Hm. Perhaps not. But what shall would do, then?”

Zarkon considered what actions they could take, and smiled slowly. “Alfor. We do not currently have an official alliance.”

”We do not... that is a risky move, Zarkon. It would be quite a scandal.”

”Any form we take to continue this without taking your... first idea will be scandalous. Perhaps even your first idea would be, in many circles.”

Alfor sighed. “You are right. I suppose.” He chuckled. “Then, dearest love, what ideas do you first have to bring to this alliance?”

”Hm. First, I think I may have an idea for our allied nations, and those requiring assistance...”

  


* * *

  


The idea for the metal lions went over well. Alfor himself even expanded on it, and when they returned to Pylia, playing with little Allura, they all went over the idea and thought upon it, considered what could make the idea of metal lions protecting the people work. There was an issue with interfacing, Pylia warned. It would work with inorganic pilots, but what they wanted to do needed a thinking brain. They would need to consider that when building the lions.

Ah, but it felt good. And this would be done officially between the Galra and the Alteans. Sanctioned by the Crown Prince himself.

Zarkon flexed his claws.

He knew his father would not enjoy what he had done. But it was done. His father could not break it without massive repercussions. And he would not break it. He had told Zarkon to gain alliances. He would not break such an alliance, despite the work he was done that would tax the kingdom’s resources.

... well, there was a way around that. But he would need to be king to do it, and his father was still king...


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up, I'm going to be putting my fanfiction on the back burner for a bit. I know this isn't that popular, but to those who _are_ reading, I finished the first draft to my novel, so editing that is taking center stage right now. I'll still update, but it may end up being a Tuesday-Wednesday-Friday-Saturday-Sunday schedule, and Tuesday and Friday is a big maybe.

Altean technology. Amazing. Zarkon held up what was told to be a handheld weapon, trying to understand the weapon part. “Is it an energy weapon? Will it form a beam if a button is pushed?”

Alfor smiled as Pylia came over. “The weapon molds itself to its wielder,” Pylia told him. “Thus, it is always the perfect weapon for the user. For instance, once awakened, if this one bonds to you, it will take the form of the weapon you use the most.”

”It hasn’t been awakened yet?” Zarkon asked. “And... not any soldier may use the weapon?”

Alfor nodded. “It interfaces with the lions we spoke about, Zarkon. And as we’ve worked on the lions, we’ve learned the only way to do what we wish to do is to add quintessence to them. I’ve been working with the blue one, testing, and it... has a bit of a personality to it. But to unlock the full potential bond between user and lion, we’ve developed this.”

”I’ve heard R&D call it a ‘Bayard,’” Pylia told them. “Not a bad name, so to speak.”

The Bayard stayed quiet in Zarkon’s hand. Did that mean he was not worthy of one of those lions? That one did not wish to work with him? Slowly, he put it down, his hand twitching as he pulled it back. “I see. And how will we know who will be able to pilot these lions?”

”I’m not sure,” Pylia admitted. “Only the blue and yellow ones are awake at the moment, though only the blue one has made any advances towards anyone.”

Zarkon nodded. “And how many are there?”

”Five. Red, Black, Blue, Green, and Yellow.”

One of them must be his. There was no question of the matter. “Please let me know of more developments in the f-” The ground shook suddenly and a shadow passed by. All three of them ran to the window to watch a red metal lion fly by, out towards the atmosphere. “What is that?”

Pylia turned and ran. “They are not cleared for space travel,” she spat. When she reached the Research and Development laboratory, she threw the doors wide, a force of nature standing tall. “Who awoke the red lion and took it for an unauthorized flight?” she demanded.

”No one, my queen,” one technician spoke. He brought over a data slate, and Zarkon could see what he had researched on the Lions, proper noun. And the Red Lion in particular, how it seemed restless. “They’re thinking beings, my queen. Our quintessence research paid off. And right now, the Red Lion is off finding its pilot.”

Pylia’s face didn’t smooth, but she did relent a touch. “Then you believe it has chosen its pilot?”

”Most likely.”

Finally, Pylia’s face relaxed. “When do you expect the Red Lion to return?”

”Whenever it finds its pilot and returns.”

She nodded, turning back to Zarkon. “My apologizes,” she told him. “Development is happening more rapidly than any of us expected.”

”May I take a tour of the Lions?” Zarkon asked, his voice rumbling.

”Certainly.” Pylia started walking through the hangar. “This is our Blue Lion. It’s very easy to get along with. All the technicians have a very lovely time working with it, and Alfor... seems to have become its pilot.” She continued walking. “This is the Green Lion. It takes quite a few technicians to work on. It’s not more advanced, but it seems to want brighter minds working on it despite not having awoken.” She walked to the Yellow Lion. “This is our other one awake. Another easy to get along with, very lovely.” The last stop...

Zarkon looked up at the Black Lion, then reached out, placing a claw on its jaw.

”Is something wrong, Zarkon?”

Something was not wrong, however... something was not right, either. He moved his hand to cradle the Black Lion’s jaw, wondering... wondering...

The eyes of the metal beast gleamed.

And Zarkon lowered his hand as the Black Lion roared.

When he turned to Pylia, she was smiling, nodding. “We will fit you with the Black Bayard as soon as possible. Now, we have must to talk about first...”

  


* * *

  


The Black Bayard responded easily in his hands, turning into a sword with a thought. It had been requested that he keep it at the lab at Altea, but... his hand brushed the Bayard by his side No, he had ideas. Something he must do first.

His father looked up from his book as Zarkon entered his bedchambers, sighing. “I see you saw what I had to say regarding your alliance with Altea,” he told him. “This rubbish with the metal lions is costing us too much money, Zarkon. We must-”

”I do know of a way to recoup the loss,” Zarkon rumbled. “A way to make our kingdom great and powerful.”

The king sighed. “And how is that, my son?”

Zarkon rushed forward, pulling his Bayard. His father didn’t react in time, didn’t understand it was a weapon until it transformed into a sword, piercing his father’s chest. “It requires your death. Don’t worry, Father. The Galra people understand sometimes the Galra king just... dies. And considering how poor you were at making this kingdom great... I doubt they will mind.”

”What...” The king wrapped his hands around the sword, coughing up blood as he tugged weakly. “What are you...”

”To have money, you must get money, Father. I will find it... if I have to control the entire universe with an iron hand and shake it out of them.” Zarkon watched his father grow limp over the blade, then kicked him off, the Bayard returning to its travel size. How sad, seeing a Galra reduced to a lump of flesh and bone... Zarkon turned, calling for the guards. He must make it seem like another killed him, after all.

Zarkon smiled as his father’s body was examined, the cruel twist of lips hidden behind backs.

The king was dead, long live the king.


	6. Chapter 6

”Father, I simply do not see why I cannot come with you,” Allura said, and Zarkon could see she was hiding a pout very well.

Alfor sighed, coming over to his daughter and placing hands on her shoulders. “My dearest daughter,” he told her. “Where we will be going may be perilous. You should remain with your mother.”

”Mother may have to go off to handle a conflict,” Allura continued, stubbornly. “It’s no more safer here than it is with you.”

”Allura.” Zarkon took a step forward. She was still so tiny... and yet, he could tell she was growing close to adulthood. “There is a difference between conducting the flow of battle behind its lines and being a part of it inside of a metal lion.”

”I suppose,” Allura mused. “Oh, but Zarkon, please say you will take me flying at some point! I daresay I would enjoy flying in the Black Lion with you!”

He chuckled, patting her head. “Of course, little Allura.”

She glowered. “I am _not_ little any longer.”

”No, I suppose not.” How old he felt... if only there was a way not to grow older. Alas. Zarkon nodded to Alfor as he headed towards the Black Lion, settling the helmet on his head. He could feel its purr around him, and the curious flick against his memories. The wonder of what else he had done. Killing his father had made it wary, but he was certain it understood why he did it. And the freedom it had brought with him, the freedom to run his kingdom as he saw fit as he flew the Black Lion, was worth the trouble. The Black Lion had seen the positive effects in how he could make alliances he couldn’t make before, bring peace in ways he couldn’t as a mere Crown Prince.

But something did not leave his mind as they flew to meet with the Orisi, intent on mediating a civil war. The Orisi complained of lacking in resources as well. If they could just join the Galra kingdom...

The Black Lion brushed against his mind, worried. Did it worry he was getting too ahead of himself? It should have no such worries. He only wanted what was best. Perhaps at some point he would make the offer. Bring them into the kingdom.

And they did have resources he did not have. That would do quite well.

It didn’t take long to broker a deal. They seemed too willing to end the war. Once they were done, Zarkon sat in the Black Lion for a bit longer in the hanger, smiling to himself. They certainly would enjoy being part of the Galra kingdom. He would make the offer soon. And if they declined the offer...

The Black Lion growled.

Zarkon frowned. “Is there something the matter? They would be a valuable asset. And they would be under my protection, so that they would never go hungry again. Would that not be what we are working towards?”

The Black Lion stopped growling, but he could still feel it tense against his mind.

”Do not worry, my Lion. I have what is best in mind for them.”

With those words, the Black Lion subsided and opened its mouth. Zarkon stood smoothly and exited, thinking. He would most certainly need to take them under his control. It wouldn’t be too difficult.

No.

Not at all.

  


* * *

  


”Where is little Allura?” Zarkon asked, fitting his chest plate on.

”Pouting, most likely,” Alfor chuckled. “She is in those hormonal years, after all.”

Zarkon shook his head, looking at Alfor. If things had been different, this conversation would never happened. Pylia would never been a block between them, a woman keeping Zarkon from grabbing Alfor and pressing their lips together. But had things been different, he never would have met little Allura, perhaps the one good thing to come from Pylia.

Ah, but no. There was another. Zarkon picked up his Bayard. His Lion.

Alfor sighed, getting up as a nearby display flashed. “Yes?”

”King Alfor. Can you come down to the Queen’s quarter’s?”

”Of course. We will be there shortly.”

”The Queen requested you, specifically, and no one else.”

Alfor blinked. “Of course.” He sighed as the display went dormant. “Whatever could Pylia wish to tell me?” he asked rhetorically, setting his helmet aside. “Please wait here. I should be back shortly.”

”Of course.” Zarkon sat down to wait, looking at his Bayard. It was an interesting weapon. It looked to have only one shape, but perhaps it may have more... An interesting thought. If he had more time to devote just to studying this weapon, he might find if that was true.

He stood slowly, reaching his mind out to the Black Lion. Where were the other Lions? He hadn’t seen the Red or Yellow pilots- Ah, no, Pylia had called the pilots “Paladins,” in quintents. And had the Green Lion shown at all?

But it remained quiet. Zarkon stressed the questions again, firmly, only to be met with silence.

Enough. Zarkon went to leave, to find Alfor, when the door opened and he entered. “Where are the other Paladins?” he rumbled.

”They have missions for Pylia,” Alfor told him. “Come. We have a mission ourselves.”

Zarkon went to leave with him, his eyes narrowed. “If we are to require fusion, the being we named as Voltron, then we will be unable to do so. Scattering ourselves as such-”

”The Red Lion will return tonight,” Alfor said. “As for the Yellow and Green... they should be back soon. And we have not required Voltron. It is a show of strength, nothing more.”

”Hm.” It should be more.

The Black Lion was silent against his mind as he entered its cockpit.


	7. Chapter 7

The Galra kingdom wasn’t quite... enough. Zarkon found himself pacing as he thought. He must increase the wealth of the Galra people. And one day he may die... he would put forth research into increasing longevity of age, as he would rather not die in the coming years. He doubted any would try to assassinate him as he did his father, considering it was known he was a warrior king. That did not mean he didn’t sleep with his Bayard, however.

What did worry him was how the other Lions were continuously sent out. He didn’t know what it meant, but Zarkon did not like it nonetheless.

”King Zarkon.” He turned, seeing the head Altean druid that had been working on the quintessence manipulation standing there. She was... perhaps lovely, he thought. Long white hair with her Altean markings running from the corners of her eyes and down to her chin rather than the dignified curves under the eye of the upper caste. “May I speak with you?”

”Certainly.” What was her name? Zarkon walked with her for a moment, curious what she had to say.

”The Black Lion’s quintessence is troubled,” she said flatly. “I do not understand what has happened, but you must get it under control. Any further troubled, and you will not be able to form Voltron.”

”The Black Lion will always answer to me,” Zarkon told her, his eyes narrowing. “I am its Paladin.”

”Perhaps so. I only wish to remind you of this.” She moved her arms, folding them inside her robe’s sleeves. “Keep this in mind.”

”What is your name?” Perhaps he could get her taken off the project. Before he threw her into something for daring to speak to him as such.

”Haggar, your majesty.” She continued to look up at him, her face unrepentant.

”Haggar.” Yes. He would certainly get her removed from the project.

As he turned, he heard her speak up one last time. “Your majesty. If you wish to take the Black Lion any time soon, you will not be able to. The druids are putting it into suspension for maintenance.”

”And why do you tell me of this? Why now, and not earlier?”

”I am not sure you would need to know it. I may be wrong. But it’s merely a reminder, your majesty, that you will not be able to fly the Black Lion today for any reason.”

Zarkon nodded. “Thank you, Haggar.”

Why could she be telling him such a thing? Did she expect an attack? His hand strayed to his Bayard at the thought. If she did, Alfor needed to know. She may be a traitor. But if she was... if she was a Galra, he knew how he would deal with her. How did the Alteans handle their traitors? He would need to find Alfor as soon as possible.

But when he entered the Audience Chambers, only Pylia sat there, reading. She looked up at him, smiling warmly as she did so. “Zarkon.” She gestured to her side. “Come. I have wonderful news.”

He came in close to her, frowning. What could Pylia need to tell him? “Yes?”

”The first is that we have made a great stride forward with the Voltron initiative. Most of the known universe is at peace now.” Pylia was beaming.

That was fantastic. Perhaps it would make it much easier to integrate them into his kingdom, then. “And second?”

She beamed. “I am with child.”

It did not matter what else she would say. All he could hear was Alfor telling him he was not to see Zarkon today, that Pylia had a rough pregnancy. That he would need to be at Pylia’s side yet again, that this _woman_ fostered yet another reason to hold Alfor away from him and the place next to him that he so deserved as they ruled their kingdoms together-

Zarkon pulled out his Bayard, the sword forming as he drove it into her gut. Right into the unborn child. Into the thing that would break Alfor further from him. His hand shook as he looked down at her, watching her eyes turned betrayed and wounded. Then furious, calculating. The look of a general ready to take her attacker with her. Zarkon pulled the sword out of her, then shoved it through her throat, ending her cry for guards before she could utter it. Her hand, he noticed that had been moving towards what was most likely a hidden weapon, dropped. Limp.

He panted, pulling his Bayard free. What had he done? He had just taken two lives. Alfor’s little one, and Pylia’s. He would need to escape as quickly as possible, which would mean the Black Lion- no, Haggar had warned him it would be non-functional today? Had she seen this coming?

”I knew her information regarding her little one would push you to homicide.” Haggar’s voice behind him made him turn, Bayard still activated. “She swore us all to secrecy. I doubt she anticipated you would react the way you did.” She turned, motioning. “Come. We cannot blame any but you, as you will be the last known to see her, but I can allow you to get off planet to return to your kingdom... or should I say, empire. You are building much of it, your majesty.”

”Why do you help me?” Zarkon asked, following her.

”I do not agree with the Alteans.” Her eyes strayed to him. “And my own personal reasons.”

Interesting. “And what do you expect to happen now? I cannot get to the Black Lion, and it is mine. I must get to it.”

”I will work how I can inside to do so. However... what you did is an act of war, your majesty.” She smiled fiercely. “I do not see a reason why you cannot fight against the Alteans in this war and take what they have. Take all of their people, their planets, their resources. They waste it all, as it is.”

”You seem very quick to lie to your countrymen,” Zarkon noted.

”Again, I have my own personal reasons. Now go.” She pointed to a row of shuttles, ready to take flight into the atmosphere. “You will not be noticed as there is already a flight scheduled.”

Zarkon nodded to her. “Thank you, Haggar.”

He would need to do something nice for her. Perhaps after this war he had inadvertently started. But ah, she was quite right in that he would be able to expand his... yes, empire was right at this point. His empire by taking territory from the Alteans. He could do quite well as... well... Emperor Zarkon.


	8. Chapter 8

More and more planets fell under his grasp. And yet... Zarkon stared out over the bridge, eyes narrowed. They had not managed to fell the Alteans yet. Alfor still held strong. That would change soon enough with the army he amassed. However...

Zarkon’s heart ached. He did not wish to lose Alfor so quickly. And within the Castle of Lions still laid the Black Lion. His Lion. He wished to see Alfor one last time, convince him. Pylia had been a marriage of politics for him. A general bringing a much needed army. But now she was dead, and nothing stood between them. Even little Allura could come with them. Ah- but she wouldn’t be so little anymore, would she? He looked at his hands, remembering a little squished bean fussing as he pressed a claw to her face.

He would certainly welcome Allura to his side.

First, he must speak with Alfor.

”My liege.” Zarkon turned slightly at Haggar’s voice. He hadn’t expected to see her again- or to hear that form of address from her. “I hear you do not have any druids.”

”I haven’t a need for them.”

”And that is why you are not gaining ground against the Alteans.” Zarkon’s eyes narrowed as she walked in front of him, noticing her hood was up. “Altean magic will defeat any it comes across. They studied for longer than you can imagine for this.”

”Haggar.” Zarkon stood, watching as she did not back away, only looked up into his face. “Explain to me why you wish to betray your people, and why I should believe you won’t betray mine.”

She smiled. “Very simple, Emperor Zarkon. You caught my heart.”

He knew what she meant. Zarkon frowned. “So you are a silly schoolgirl, following the matters of your emotions.”

”I am following the matters of a woman that weighed both sides, saw this side would suit the universe far better, and my heart simply aligned with that wish.” Haggar narrowed her eyes. “I have been in positions to marry for love before and have declined as it would not have suited my position. This suits both.”

”I suppose you know quite well I am not quite attracted to Altean women,” he rumbled. “And that your betrayal to my side would keep me from forgetting that.”

”It’s well known you are attracted to men,” Haggar told him. “I did not come here for pleasure or marriage, Emperor Zarkon. I came to help you win.”

”Hm.” Having a druid would be quite useful. If she was correct, he would need some. Perhaps... he should accept her offer. “Then perhaps you can do one thing for me. Get me an audience with Alfor.”

”He will not listen to any requests or demands you have of him,” Haggar told him.

”It does not matter. Simply get me the audience.”

”As you wish,” she murmured.

  


* * *

  


Haggar was not wrong. More battles were won once the druids were on his side. But he still did not speak with Alfor... and that was the one thing he wanted. The closer they came to the Castle of Lions, and yet Alfor did not hail him, did not speak with him.

Zarkon watched the universe burn around him and merely waited.

Then-

He obtained an audience with Alfor. At a neutral location to them both. But he was able to speak with him again. Zarkon walked up next to Alfor, his heart aching. He never wanted to see Alfor looking so old. “Hello, dear friend,” Alfor said, his voice weary.

”Hello, dear Alfor.” Zarkon didn’t miss how Alfor closed his eyes, how he winced at the words. “I suppose you know why I requested this meeting.”

”I only ask why you thought it to be a good idea,” Alfor asked, turning to him. “You killed Pylia. You killed my queen, my wife, my love. The war you must have known would happen. Why did you do such a thing?”

”She told me she was with child,” Zarkon rumbled, remembering with shame how he reacted to those words. “I remembered her pregnancy with little Allura, and how it took all your attention.”

”So you were taken by mere jealousy.” Alfor closed his eyes briefly before opening then, his eyes furious. “You were jealous of my Pylia when you hold my love as well. You started this war over something so idiotic.”

Zarkon narrowed his eyes. “I failed to see how I hold your love as much as Pylia did.”

”Perhaps if you had opened your eyes, you would have seen it.” Alfor shook his head. “I have nothing else to say. You lost your way, old friend. And I do not think you will ever be able to regain it.”

”I do not think I’ve lost it, but rather found a new, better path,” Zarkon informed him. “One that will benefit the Galra empire greatly.”

”Do you hear yourself, Zarkon?” Alfor looked up at him. “You call your kingdom an empire now. What are you doing, Zarkon? My love? What do you think you can gain from this? It will not remain once you die. Even if you produce an heir, he will not keep at what you are doing.”

”I do not plan on dying.”

Alfor shook his head. “You are mad.”

”Perhaps.”

Alfor took a step back, sighing. “Then I suppose this is where we part ways. The next time we will see each other will be the battlefield.”

Zarkon closed his eyes. He would need to kill Alfor then. Would he be able to do so?

”My love...” Zarkon opened his eyes as Alfor took his hands. “Know that even now I still love you, and that I wish things would have worked out for us all.”

The last touch of their lips together followed Zarkon back to his ship.


	9. Chapter 9

The Black Lion was not his.

And the Castle of Lion could not be found.

Zarkon watched his forces fight the last of the Altean ranks. The fleet had been destroyed, and all that remained was the few defenders left behind. Before Alfor had left to breathe his last, he had sent the Castle of Lions on a path only he knew. None of his people could find it now. And with Alfor gone, dead... Zarkon pressed a hand against his armor, feeling the ache in his chest. Now with Alfor dead, they had no chance of finding it. If little Allura still lived, her quintessence may have been trackable, but... even that could not be found. The thought that Alfor may have slayed his little girl to keep her from falling into enemy hands grew cold in Zarkon’s chest. Alfor would have never done such a thing. But it was undeniable they could not find the Castle of Lions.

Altea stood before him, the last bastion of the Altean army. If they took out Altea, the army would lose their last place to run and regroup. No other place nearby would be friendly to them. All it would take would be one attack to the planet itself.

Zarkon had already given the order.

And he watched as the planet grew bright in the explosion, then dull as the planet itself died.

He turned away to leave, finding no joy in watching such a thing. Altea was to be his ally, Alfor his lover as they joined forces. Pylia was not to be a factor in the least. And yet, in real life... he stood alone, his kingdom turned empire in his cold grasp. It did not feel like victory to him.

Perhaps if he had the last thing given to him by Alfor. His Lion. It would secure his position, as well as... be his. The Black Lion was _his_. No matter what had happened, the Black Lion belonged in his hangar. It was the last thing remaining of Alfor! He should have it!

And yet. He could not find it, nor any other Lion.

Zarkon closed his eyes.

”Emperor Zarkon.” Haggar’s voice did not make him open his eyes. There was little she could do that would make him do so. “Altea is dead.”

”Yes.”

”You have won this war, Emperor Zarkon. And yet, you do not appear happy.”

He opened his eyes, glaring at her. “You are well aware of why I am not happy.”

”I am aware you may need to think more to the future than you already are. The research to extend your life has not gone well. If you wish to continue your line, you may wish to think of wedding, or at least lying with a woman. As emperor, you can take the heads of any that speak ill of your heir if you do not wed the woman.”

”And you offer yourself.”

”While my powers as a druid would create a strong heir, I would recommend a Galra woman. It would create more legitimacy if the child was full blooded Galra.”

Zarkon considered her words. Then shook his head. “I do not wish an heir.”

”As you wish,” she murmured.

  


* * *

  


The Red Lion.

The Lion they had found was the _Red Lion_.

Zarkon took the head of the messenger right there, for telling him such news. He needed to hear of the Black Lion, not the Red. It didn’t matter to him the other Lions other than the Black. He was the Black Paladin, not the Red Paladin!

This time, when Haggar came to speak with him, he threw her against the wall, pulling up her robes. She was quite right. He needed an heir, to find what was his. Someone less bumbling than his people. Someone that would be as smart as she was, as powerful, and have the royal power he did.

Their coupling was rough, but Haggar pushed happily into each touch. Encouraged him further, smiling a secretive smile. He could feel her convulse around him, her fingers dipping down to work against herself as he took his own pleasure.

”This will not happen again,” he hissed into her ear, still moving slightly inside of her, making her moan slightly. “If you do not become pregnant, you will not have a second chance.”

She laughed slightly. “That will not be an issue. Your son will be strong and healthy.”

”Hm.” He didn’t quite move away yet. “Is that a druidic power? You are able to read your body to see when you conceive, and the future of the pregnancy?”

”Perhaps.”

Slowly, Zarkon slid out of her, making her gasp, her body no longer ready for such movements. “Tell me when my son is born, Haggar. And continue your research, so the three of us may live forever.”

Haggar settled her robes, nodding. “Of course, Emperor Zarkon.” Then, smiling slightly, “What will you name your son?”

”How long will it take to give birth? Galra do not give names to children before they are born, to ensure one will not become attached if the child is not viable.”

“As long as a Galra pregnancy, and the children are surprisingly strong. Do not look so surprised,” she chuckled. “Part of druidic training is medical. I saw a few pregnant Alteans that had fallen for Galra.”

”Hm.” The fact his son would not be the first half-Altean bothered him a touch, but the information for druidic training did explain why Haggar was able read her body so well. “Name the child as you will and let me know what it is when it is born.”

”Of course.”

  


* * *

  


Immortality was dull. It was spiced up at times with arguments with Lotor, but even those lost their luster in time. And most likely Lotor felt the same, leaving to find his own sense of joy.

But then the Blue Lion flew across the stars again, an unknown pilot at its helm.

And Altean energy awoke, little Allura’s energy, Alfor’s daughter still alive.

Zarkon only smiled as he sent Sendak. He would regain the Black Lion now, at any cost. Little Allura’s energy would lead them straight there. He had no need for the princess after he got the Black Lion. Her fate would not matter to him. All that would matter...

Would be the Black Lion.

Would be bringing the rest of the universe under his command.

Zarkon smiled.

The Black Lion would be his soon enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly had [You're Coming With Me](http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/agonist/yourecomingwithme.html) stuck in my head the entire time writing this.
> 
> Thank you all so much! I'm certain this will be extremely far from canon once we get backstory but I had fun considering how they could have gone from being friends to Zarkon wanting to eradicate them all.


End file.
